You're off the Edge of the Map, Mate
by La Marquesa
Summary: A 21st Century girl winds up on the Black Pearl with everybody's favorite pirate. Rated M because it's about pirates, there's foul language, violence, and some sexual content.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: POTC is not mine; I'm not pretending that it is. However, it is said that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

Author's note: Yes, this is rather like a Mary-Sue, but Adriana is not me. I'd like to think she's different than most girls that wind up on the _Black __Pearl__._ This is my story and I'll write what I want to write. Feel free to read and review. I'd love to hear what you think. 

Mike wanted to go spelunking; after all when she met him he worked at a cave. Mike had intrigued her. He wasn't her usual type; bad boy / rock star. He was kind of, well, country. She was very un-country. Born and raised in New York City, she moved to Kentucky when she was 18. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine she'd spend a Saturday afternoon traipsing through caves with a guy she could barely comprehend through his viscous southern accent. Somehow, she managed to overlook that major character flaw, and agreed to go on a date with him.

            The pair spent the better part of the afternoon touring all of the caves in the area that were open to the public. Adriana was enjoying herself. Caves had always interested her; there was something primitive and sexy about a cave, which made her cave-boy even more appealing. After their fifth cave tour of the day, Mike told her about a cave he recently discovered, and persuaded her to come and see it. 

            The cave was well off the beaten track. The only way to access it was down a dirt road that was little more than an ATV track. By the time they reached the entrance of the cave, the sun was setting.

            The entrance to the cave was a small hole halfway up a slight hill. Adriana frowned.

            "Is that the only entrance?" she asked.

            Mike replied, "Yes, but it gets larger a few feet down."

            Adriana frowned some more. She wasn't particularly fond of getting dirty, and she especially didn't want to get the clothes she was wearing tonight dirty. Adriana took special care when getting dressed this afternoon. She liked Mike, and wanted to get laid. She wore a black satin corset, which reminded her of _Moulin Rouge!_ and gave her amazing cleavage. She also wore a black, zip-up hoodie, because it was October. She wore a simple pair of low-rise black jeans that were held on by a studded belt. On her feet, she sported black high-heeled knee-high leather boots. To complete her outfit, she wore a jeweled choker on her neck, which was really a dog collar from the local pet store. She thought she looked damn good. 

            "You can go first. There's a drop of about eight feet before the floor levels out. The ceiling's pretty low for six feet or so, so don't stand up all the way. There might be a few puddles, because it rained on Thursday, but I haven't found any real water. Here's a flashlight; I'll hold the rope for you. Don't look so scared; I'll be down right behind you."

            Adriana had gone pale.

            "A drop?" she squeaked.

            "Yeah, don't worry about it. Eight feet might seem like a lot, but once your whole body is in the cave, your feet are only 3 feet from the ground."

            Adriana smiled weakly. She better get laid for this. Maybe in the cave, she thought; that would be kinky. Very carefully, she eased herself down into the little fissure. When she was entirely swallowed up by the cave, she let go.

            She felt herself falling, but the ground Mike promised never came.  A choked scream escaped from her lips. She clutched the flashlight to her chest, and squeezed her eyes shut. After falling for what seemed like an eternity, she landed with a dull thud.


	2. The Black Pearls

            Adriana groaned. She had landed in the most uncomfortable place imaginable. The surface beneath her was very uneven and very hard. Something was digging into her lower back. She rolled over, only to discover that more painful entities were now poking her in the side. Very slowly, she opened her eyes. To her absolute astonishment, she could see. On each and every one of her five tours that day, the guide had shut off the lights to demonstrate the complete blackness inside a cave. Each time, Adriana waved her hand millimeters from her face, and saw utter darkness. The light gave her hope.

            "Mike!" She called out, "I'm over here!"

            Her cry echoed off the walls, mocking her. It was as she feared; she was alone. 

            Despite the light, the cavern was still very dim. She groped aimlessly around for the flashlight she had been clutching as she fell. Sure enough, it was just inches from her right hand. However, the wretched thing had broken in the fall, and Adriana threw it away in disgust.

            Immediately to her left was her purse. She rummaged through it, and pulled out her cigarette lighter and a cigarette. She nearly choked to death when she lit the cigarette; the cave was brimming with gold!

            Using her lighter as a torch, Adriana stumbled around the cave. She had never seen so much wealth in her entire life. Slowly, she navigated through the maze of treasure, inching her way towards the faint light. The lighter burned her thumb, and she dropped it, cursing. It landed next to a jeweled tiara. Adriana stooped to pick both items up, and noticed the faint crash of waves. She perched her new-found tiara atop her black hair which snaked down her back in a braid. She frowned again. Mike promised there wasn't any water, and she distinctly heard water. 

            "Bastard!" She muttered to herself. "Eight-foot drop my ass! He's not getting any tonight." During her outburst she tripped over a massive candelabrum which prompted her to shut up and pay more attention to where she was going.

            Unexpectedly, the whole cave brightened. Shafts of moonlight penetrated the roof of an immense chamber directly opposite from where Adriana was standing. There was an even greater horde of silver, gold, jewels, and extravagant tapestries in this new found space. Her jaw dropped as she surveyed the room. The treasure was heaped in mountains throughout the room. She saw no trace of the cave's floor. In the center of the cavern, there was an island of gold, upon which an intricately carved chest sat bathed in moonlight. This cave was partially flooded. Through a dark passage in one wall, the roaring of water could be heard. 

            There are no oceans in Kentucky, she thought, but that sounds distinctly like the crashing of waves on rock. She also became aware that it was significantly warmer in this cave than it had been in the caves she frequented earlier. Her sweatshirt seemed rather superfluous. She took it off, and draped it over her bag. She took a seat on a rococo gold leaf throne-looking chair. 

The cave perplexed Adriana. She absent-mindedly chewed on her tongue ring while she pondered the situation. The facts just didn't add up: there was no sign of Mike, there was way too much water, it was pretty balmy, and there were gobs and gobs of treasure. It was impossible for her to climb back up the way she came in. The walls were too smooth for her to climb up to one of the skylights in the ceiling. If at all possible, she didn't want to get wet. Who knew how deep the water got? There could be all sorts of creepy crawlies in it. Leaches, parasites, blind albino crustaceans could all be lurking just under the surface of the cave water. She shuddered at the thought. She couldn't resign herself to rotting away in here for eternity; somehow, she had to get out of this cave. 

            Intermittently, the cave would darken a bit; presumably from clouds drifting past the moon. Her stomach growled; its sound strangely magnified by the vast emptiness of the chamber. She got bored with sitting on her throne, and decided to go jewelry shopping.

            Her first find was a stack of gold bangles. She clad her left arm nearly to her elbow in them. As she carefully flitted among the treasure heaps, she picked up rings that caught her fancy. In no time at all, every one of her fingers was decked out in jeweled goodness. The moon broke free of the clouds, and one pure shaft sliced through the heavens to puddle at Adriana's feet. There, inches from her toes, was a pearl necklace. It was the most startling thing she had ever seen. It had to have been over three feet long, and was made up of black pearls the size of marbles. Adriana was instantly in love. She snatched it up and draped it around her neck. Underneath there was a matching ring. Adriana promptly threw off one of her lesser baubles and jammed the pearl ring on her finger. The set must have cost a king's ransom. She felt so decadent.

            Just then, a rhythmic splashing caught her attention. To her ears it sounded like oars from a boat. Adriana instantly focused all her attention on the sound. Nothing moved in the main cavern just yet. Her ice-blue eyes widened as she searched for the source of the approaching sound. It seemed ridiculous, but maybe it was Mike come to rescue her. If that was the case, then there was still hope that she would get laid tonight. She sprinted back to her throne, as best she could, given the nature of the terrain. She had barely arranged herself in her throne when a rowboat emerged from the mouth of the dark passage.

            At the bow sat a man carrying a lantern. He held it aloft on a pole, and its shadows danced across his face. He looked a little odd. Adriana leaned forward and squinted a little to get a better look at him. On his head he wore a battered tricorner hat. Beneath its brim, his eyes smoldered like two black coals. She noticed he was wearing eyeliner. Forget Mike; guys that wore eyeliner drove Adriana wild. He had a goatee, which developed into twin braids at his chin; each terminated with a little bead. He wore a rather elegant white shirt, and some pants that looked like they had seen better days. A tattered sash was tied around his waist, and he wore a coat that seemed to Adriana to be a little excessive for the current temperature. She could barely make out the tops of his well-worn boots as his boat drew ever closer. Behind him rowed two men. Their backs were turned, but Adriana could see one of them had the most impressive mutton-chop sideburns she had ever seen this side of a Civil War re-enactment.

            The sexy man's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Adriana sprawled on the throne, adorned with treasure.

            "Hey! Hey you! Jus' wha' d'you think you're doin'!?" He yelled, visibly flustered.

The heads of both men swung 'round to face the bow. 

"Stealin' my swag, are you missy?" He dropped the lantern, and drew a sword that Adriana failed to notice earlier. 

Her eyes widened in horror. She was petrified. All she could do was stammer out "N-n-no."

He sprang from the boat and nimbly navigated his way to Adriana. He pointed the sword at her throat.

"Unhand me riches you treacherous wench!"

Made clumsy by fear, she pulled off all the rings, the bangles, and finally the tiara. She could not look at him, for fear of the fury in his eyes. A foothill of jewelry had accumulated at the base of the throne.

"And me necklace." With his sword, he deftly picked up a strand; she could feel the blade brush against her left breast, just over her heart.

She pulled back; her hand leapt to her chest to grasp the necklace. She looked up at him, and cringed when she saw the ferocity in his face. His once sensuous lips were drawn into a thin line and his eyes were narrowed in suspicion. She pulled the necklace over her head and flung it at his feet. She then drew her knees to her chest and curled up in a little ball.

"Tie her up! We're taking her back to _The Pearl_ with us." A devious grin flashed across his face, revealing several gold teeth.

"Yes Cap'n," the one with the sideburns replied.

Adriana didn't put up a fight. The Captain still had his sword pointed in her direction. They bound her hands and feet with coarse rope, and unceremoniously tossed her in the dingy they had arrived in. 


	3. Nowhere to Run

            Adriana made herself as small as possible as the three men loaded the dinghy with various items from the treasure cache. The Captain still seemed to be quite bewildered by her presence. Poor guy, she thought, if only he knew I was just as confused as he is. 

            As the three men prepared to embark, Mr. Sideburns took the Captain aside. Adriana couldn't make out much of their conversation. She did notice the Captain gesticulating wildly, and only deciphered one snippet of their whispered exchange.

            "Frightful bad luck to have a woman aboard, sir," protested the man with the sideburns.

            With that, the two looked at Adriana. She raised her right eyebrow and stared back at the two of them. The Captain said something, and the two got on the boat.

            The ride out of the cave was uncomfortable, at best. Adriana was wedged on the bottom of the boat, between two seats. To her left were the two men that rowed the boat. On her right sat the Captain. She avoided looking at him; instead she focused her attention on the scenery. He, however, studied her intently. She was unlike any woman he had ever seen. There was something exotic about her; he just couldn't put a finger on it. As his eyes meandered over her body, he caught a glimpse of a tattoo on her back. He raised an eyebrow; the lass was definitely exotic.

            Adriana couldn't help but gasp as the rowboat left the cave, and she took in the vastness of the dark ocean she now helplessly floated upon. 

            "What's th' matter luv? Never seen a ship tha' big before?" The Captain quipped.

            Adriana hadn't noticed the ship. Save a smattering of twinkling lanterns, the ship was an inky silhouette against the night sky. Oceans, sailboats, and some peculiar men, this was all a bit much for Adriana. She must have hit her head when she fell; there was no logical explanation for all of this. On top of it all, she was getting a bit queasy. Must be from the concussion, she mused.

            In no time at all, the little rowboat pulled alongside the monolithic hull of black ship.

            "Mr. Gibbs, if you'd be so kind," the Captain addressed the man with the sideburns, with a gesture in Adriana's direction.

            Mr. Gibbs picked up Adriana and tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He then proceeded to scale the rope ladder that had been lowered for him. Adriana held on as best she could, given the fact that both her hands and feet were still securely bound together. From her perch she could see the little rowboat shrinking with each upward step. 

            "Please don't drop me," she begged.

            "I'm not plannin' on it, missy," he grunted as he heaved himself over the railing and on to the deck.

            Adriana was deposited in a heap on the deck. The bonds binding her ankles were cut.

            "There's nowhere for you to run to now," someone hissed in her ear.

            Her head whipped around to confront the disembodied voice. A small crowd had congregated behind her, leering at her. It was the sorriest assemblage of people she had ever seen. Each person was filthy, many were missing teeth, and they were dressed in glorified rags. They looked like, well, pirates. They whispered amongst themselves; snippets floated to Adriana's ears.

            "Stealin'"

            "Plunder"

            "Angry"

            "String 'er up"

            "Maroon 'er"

            The Captain materialized over the deck railing, and a silence swept over the crew.

            "Welcome aboard the _Black Pearl_, luv. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, and these gentlemen'll show you to your quarters." Captain Sparrow gave an elaborate flourish and added, "Lock her in the brig, men."

            Two calloused hands grabbed her arms and hauled her below decks. The brig was little more than cage. Adriana estimated it to be about eight feet by four feet, and she was being generous. After slitting her bonds and dumping her in the cell, the two pirates tossed her purse and sweatshirt in after her. The door banged shut behind her, and the sound of the lock ramming home sickened Adriana. What cruel fate awaited her now? How long was she going to sit and rot in this damp, god-forsaken prison?  She could hear the crash of water on the ship's hull. She must be near the water line.

            To occupy herself until her probable execution, she rummaged through her purse. On top were her cigarettes, right where she left them. She lit one up, hoping it would calm her nerves. Her purse was full of the usual junk; sadly she had no helpful items, with which she could make her escape. She did have her makeup kit, a spare tongue ring, her keys with the fierce skull keychain she dubbed "Mr. Bones", a little bottle of lotion, a little tube of toothpaste and travel toothbrush, a spare pair of underwear, and the ever-important box of condoms. She was fully prepared to get laid that night, until her plans were shattered by that bloody cave and those bloody pirates. She wondered what Mike did when he noticed she was missing. Or had he even noticed? Or perhaps he fell into the cave too, and was wandering around looking for her. 

            She put her cigarette out on the iron framework of her cell just before it burned her fingers. No sooner had she extinguished the cancer stick, a pirate entered, bearing a plate of food and a wooden mug. He slid it under the door, turned on his heel, and promptly exited. 

Adriana muttered a "Thanks" to his rapidly retreating form.

            She warily inspected the food. The hard tack and salted fish didn't look appetizing. Ordinarily she wouldn't have touched them, however, her stomach let out a hearty growl, and she had no choice but to oblige it. She choked down as much as she could, but the food left a horrible taste in her mouth. She wondered how people could eat this shit. Desperately she hoped the beverage in her mug tasted better. She sniffed it tentatively. Definitely alcohol, she took a sip. Rum! She rejoiced, and emptied the mug.

            She was getting tired. Her body told her it was late, but without a clock she was unable to confirm her suspicions. Her corset, which had seemed like a splendid idea earlier, was now becoming uncomfortably tight. She unhooked the top two hook-and-eye clasps, thus allowing her to breathe a little easier. The corset remained securely in place, given that it had clasps down the front and laces up the back. She balled her hoodie into a crude pillow, and was rocked to sleep by the gentle sway of the ocean.


	4. The Captain Wants a Word

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC, or any of its characters, they all belong to Disney. I'm just borrowing them, without their consent, but I have every intention of bringing them back.

Author's note: Thank you for the reviews, I'm glad someone is reading this and actually enjoying it. Is it just me, or did Jack seem a wee bit like Barbossa in the earlier chapters? I guess Barbossa is just my typical angry pirate. Please read, and tell me what you think. Thanks, and enjoy.

            _She was in the cave again, and he was with her. They were on the central island, with the altar-like chest behind them. They stood facing each other, only inches between their two bodies. She looked up into the deep, mysterious portholes to his soul; the wrath that had been there earlier had been replaced by hunger. His hand reached to her cheek; his delicate touch felt like lightning. She shivered in delight. His other hand seized her belt and pulled her to him; the warmth radiating from his body elicited the most exquisite glow between her legs.  She moved in to kiss him, but he beat her to it. His kiss was so forceful and fortified with desire, Adriana simply melted against him. Her hands clawed at his shirt; she wanted to feel his naked flesh. Breaking the kiss, he removed the shirt with a swift motion. She pulled him back to her with a kiss that matched his in intensity and need. Her hands roved over his bronzed torso and explored every inch of his exposed skin. His mouth departed hers; the exceptional taste of him lingered on her lips. A slight moan slipped from her lips, betraying her want for him. His lips assaulted her neck, trailing kisses from just below her ear, along her jaw line, and down to the crook of her neck. He spun her around and continued to pepper her neck and shoulders with kisses as he unlaced the satin ribbon of her corset. Adriana was in agony, his kisses tormented her. She needed him. Without him, the flames of passion would consume her. Her whole body begged for the release only he could give her. At long last she was freed of her corset. His agile fingers unhooked the catch of her bra, and it dropped silently to the floor. His hands stole to her breasts, his calloused thumbs brushing over the nipples. Adriana threw her head back and moaned. He trickled kisses down her spine, all the while relishing the effect he had on her. He spun her around once more, and stripped off her belt. Adriana thrust her hips toward him, blinded her desperate itch._

_            "Captain," she breathed._

_            He put a finger on her lips to silence her. All she wanted to do was to pounce on him, to feel him deep inside her. Her lack of control was maddening, but some mystifying influence seduced her into submission. He unzipped her jeans, and pulled them past her hips. He did the same with her panties, his lust beginning to overtake him. He pushed her down, so she came to rest on the stone lid. He plucked her pants and panties off, leaving her naked except for her boots.  She looked up at him, his face glazed over with need. She spread her legs, revealing the gleaming magnificence of her sex to him. This time, he was the one that moaned. With her right hand, she beckoned him closer. He grabbed her wrist firmly with his left hand; in his right, he dangled the string of black pearls she so dearly coveted. He bound her wrists with the necklace while she uttered a feigned cry of distress. He lifted her arms over her head, and forced her down on the altar. His dominance and aggression further fanned the flames inside her. With one hand he restrained her, and with the other he delicately brushed her femininity as he moved to remove his trousers. He freed his swollen member, and leaned over Adriana. As he kissed her, his erection caressed her inner thigh. He was so close, yet so far from where she wanted him. She spread her legs wider, silently pleading for him to enter. He slowly indulged her, first teasing her with his head. She writhed beneath him, the anticipation was nearly too much to bear. All at once he thrust into her silken cavern, and she bit down on his lower lip as his full length rammed home._

            Adriana woke with a start. She recognized nothing, and someone was yelling and banging on something. 

            "Wake up, missy. Th' Cap'n wants a word with you," a gruff voice growled.

            The dream came flooding back to her as she became aware of the sweet throbbing between her legs. The Captain. She bit her lip as tendrils of the dream replayed themselves in her head. If that bastard hadn't disturbed her…

            The keys jangled as the pirate unlocked her cell. She took the opportunity to re-fasten her corset. A rough hand grabbed her by the arm and ushered her above decks. 

            The sunlight blinded her, and she tried her best to shield her sleepy eyes with her free hand. She stole a glimpse around; all she could see was a vast expanse of ocean in every direction. She was pressed though a doorway on the main deck, and once again temporarily blinded, this time by the lack of light. She turned as the door was slammed shut behind her.

            "Did ye sleep well, luv?" Captain Sparrow drawled. 

            His comment caught Adriana off-guard. Could he know? Impossible, she reminded herself. Aside from the dream, she had slept terribly. Her neck, back, shoulders, and hips hurt from sleeping on the wooden floor of the brig.

            "Not particularly," she responded, and rubbed her neck.

            "What d'you say we cut to the chase?" He paused, and Adriana nodded in agreement. "What's your name?"

            "Adriana Meyer."

            "Well, Miss Meyer, perchance ye can answer me a couple o' questions. What were **you doing on the _Isla de Muerta? How did **you** find it? Why were **you** looting my treasure!?" With each question his voice grew louder and his expression more livid. "The sentence for theft is marooning, and I have the perfect island in mind."_**

            Adriana stood there, her mouth slightly agape, her eyes wide. She couldn't think; her mind was still addled from sleep.

            "Answer me!"

            "Well," she stammered. "You could say I dropped in, accidentally."

            "Ye 'spect me t' believe that?"

            "Yes."

            He narrowed his eyes and glared at her. He was slightly upset with himself for losing control. He had hoped that, after sleeping on the matter, he would be able to deal with it in a more civilized and rational manner. However, that girl was not helping the situation at all. Her vague answers irked him, yet her veiled responses only added to her mystery that drew him to her like a moth to a flame. He had no choice but to accept her answers, and the way that she set her jaw told Jack that he'd be hard pressed to get anymore answers from her.

            She interrupted his thoughts, "If I truly was stealing your treasure, don't you think I would have planned for my escape? I would have had a boat or something, and at least tried to run from you when you discovered my presence. When you arrived, I was genuinely relieved to see you. You rescued me from almost certain death. If you hadn't come along when you did, I would have died of starvation, or been attacked by some wild animal."

            "A most regrettable fate."

            "Yes, I'm in your debt, Captain Sparrow," Adriana appealed to him. She did not want to wind up marooned on some god-forsaken desert isle.

            Jack cocked his head and thought about this for a while, his fingers absent-mindedly stroking the braids on his chin. As the Captain pondered her admission, she took a closer look around the cabin she was in. It was not his bedroom; it must have been his living area. There was a large dining table, with miscellaneous trunks, tables, and desks lining the walls. Adriana sat down in one of the dining chairs, grateful to rest on something remotely soft.

            Jack watched her as she crossed the room, all the fury from earlier had magically melted away. He was terribly attracted to her. The way she walked was so enticing, he wanted to follow her wherever she went. He eyed her disheveled black braid that fell to mid-back, and rested between the two tattoos he observed the previous evening. The tattoos were wings, angel wings. He noticed more tattoos on her wrists, but he couldn't make them out. Her eyes, he observed, were slightly puffy and smeared with makeup; no doubt victims of her un-restful night's sleep. She was still achingly beautiful, and he took pity on her.

            "You look tired, Miss Meyer. Perhaps you'd like to take a nap and freshen up in my cabin?"

            She raised an eyebrow at the offer. Freshen up? In his cabin? Was he trying to suggest something? Adriana would have been more than willing to oblige.

            "If you'll lead the way," she accepted as she rose from the chair. "If you could be so kind as to have my affects brought up, I would appreciate it."

            He led her through a small hallway and opened the door for her. She brushed against him as she entered the room, and Jack speculated whether or not it was deliberate. To avoid any actions he might later regret, he left and closed the door behind him.

            Adriana was alone in the room. She could smell his lingering scent in the room, and once again her loins smoldered. She had intentionally nudged him as she walked past, but it appeared he missed the hint. She sighed, surprised at how tired she was. His bed looked awfully inviting, even if she had to be alone. She sat on the edge, and pulled off her boots. Her feet were killing her. She peeled her socks off and jammed them down in her boots. She struggled briefly with her belt, before that too came off. She hesitated before removing her pants, but decided she would be too hot with them on. She added her choker to the pile on the ground before tackling the corset. It had to go, it was simply too uncomfortable for her to sleep in. She undid all of the hidden clasps down the front, and when it was peeled off; Adriana noticed the imprints the boning had left on her skin. The things she did to get laid. Then, clad only in her bra and panties, she nestled herself under the covers. Bathed in the warm, sweet aroma of Captain Jack Sparrow, she fell asleep.


	5. Damned if You do, Damned if You don't

            Author's Apologies: Sorry for the lack of updates, classes started on January 12, and they've occupied the majority of my time. I'm trying to update as often as possible, but that might not be all that frequently. Thank you for the reviews, they helped keep me motivated. Here's the long-delayed chapter everyone's been waiting for.

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            Jack took his time before retrieving Adriana's belongings from the brig. It wasn't his favorite spot in the boat to visit, and so it was with great reluctance that he finally went below. He brought her things back up to his cabin. He had never seen anything quite like them before; however, Jack obeyed her request for her effects to remain 'unmolested,' and restrained his curiosity. When he reached the door to his cabin, he paused with his fist inches from the door, poised to knock. He felt silly knocking before entering his own cabin. His hand went for the latch, but he paused again. She might get mad at him for barging in on her, and Jack didn't want her hate him. He wanted her to like him. 

            "Damned if you do, damned if you don't," he grumbled as he opened the door. 

            Nothing was hurled at his head, and no one shrieked at him for infringing on a lady's privacy. Perhaps she was pleased to see him. He glanced around the room for her. To his disappointment, she was fast asleep in his bed. Lying next to her on the floor, he noticed a rather large pile of her clothing. He crept over, careful to skip the floorboards that squeaked; he didn't want to wake her. He deposited her bag and sweatshirt next to the pile she made earlier. He took another step so he was standing at the edge of the bed. Very cautiously he leaned over to verify that she was really asleep. She emitted a slight snore, and Jack flinched involuntarily. He chided himself for letting her snore startle him. His hand inched toward the corner of her blanket. He wanted a better look at her, and if she just happened to be naked at the time, well then that was just an added bonus for him. He gently lifted the blankets off her, revealing her pale skin. Jack's face fell when he noticed she wasn't nude. She wasn't fully clothed either, he reminded himself, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a smirk. She stirred slightly. Jack dropped the covers, turned on his heel, and quickly left the cabin.

            When she heard the door click shut, Adriana turned over and smiled. She caught him red handed. She couldn't help but stupidly grin knowing that he lusted after her just like she lusted after him. She kicked the covers off, letting the air cool her skin. As the day went on, it had become much hotter than the night before. She surveyed the cabin she was in now. It was all wood, mostly finely carved. It wasn't extravagantly large, but it was much more spacious than the cell she had occupied earlier. There were exotic knick-knacks scattered everywhere, among them she could see shrunken heads. Sunlight filtered in through arched, mullioned windows. She could hear the creaking of the ship, the splash of waves, and the muffled shouts and laughter of the male crewmembers. 

            As she relaxed in bed, she thought about the events of the past 12 or so hours. She pinched herself to check for consciousness, and left an angry red welt on her forearm. She clearly was not in Kentucky anymore. Try as she might, she couldn't come up with a logical explanation for any of it. She remembered vaguely a book she had read in the fourth grade about a _tesseract_, but it was fiction. That sort of thing never happens in real life. _A Wrinkle in Time_, that's what it was called. Time certainly was wrinkled here, she frowned. From the way the people she had seen dressed, she figured it had to be the early 1700's. The best thing she could do was to play along, and find someway back to the cave. The answer had to be in the cave.

            Adriana stretched and got out of bed. She wasn't all that thrilled to be getting dressed again, but she couldn't lie around in the Captain's bed all day, no matter how comfortable it was. There were a pitcher and a basin of water on a table against the wall. Still in her underwear, she crossed the Persian carpeted floor to splash water on her face. She rubbed the water into her eyes to wash away all her smeared mascara. On the table next to the basin was a cloth, which she used to dry her face and wipe away the last traces of makeup. She rummaged through her bag for her toothbrush and toothpaste. Using the leftover water in the bowl, she brushed her teeth to remove the foul taste left in her mouth from dinner the night before. To try to make her hair more presentable, she brushed it out and loosely re-braided it. Finally, she squeezed herself back into her corset and jeans, and jammed her feet into her boots. As she strapped on her belt, she stepped out of the cabin. 

            Captain Jack wasn't to be found below decks. Adriana took her time her time wandering around his suite of rooms. Perhaps his varied collection of artifacts could give her some clue as to how she could persuade him to take her back to the _Isle de Muerta_, as he called it. The way she saw it, that was her only chance of returning back to 21st century Kentucky. She wasn't particularly fond of Kentucky, but it had a few things she couldn't stand living without, like running water and French fries. With the mere mention of fries, her stomach gave an angry growl.  She abandoned her snooping and went out on deck.

            The sunlight assaulted her, forcing her to shield her eyes with her hand. All action on deck ceased with Adriana's appearance. The men in the rigging openly stared at her, making no effort to conceal the wanton looks upon their faces. The only man not staring and drooling all over himself was the Captain. He stood nobly at the wheel, his dreadlocks occasionally whipped back by the breeze. 

            "Back to work!" he bellowed as he turned to have a look at the source of his men's inactivity. "Sleep well, luv?" He grinned, flashing his gold teeth.

            "Well enough, thank you Captain Sparrow. I am, however, quite famished. Is there anything edible aboard this ship?"

            "I wouldn't be insulting our cook like that, luv. If ye be thinkin' what ye had last night was foul, just you wait." He shook a finger in her direction for emphasis.

            "My apologies, Captain, it's just that I'm starving."

            "I'll have somethin' sent up to me cabin. Ye best wait there."

            With his dismissal, Adriana went back below deck. While she waited, she browsed the small collection of maps strewn across the table. Some had indecipherable script scrawled on them, some were old with tattered edges, and some were in pristine condition. She was so absorbed in the maps that she didn't hear Jack enter.

            "What are you doing?"

            "Nothing," she sounded like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar as she looked up with a start.

            Jack narrowed his eyes at her as he set down the tray of food she requested. She had never been completely honest with him, and he couldn't bring himself to trust her. And just now she seemed like she was up to no good, snooping around his maps. He couldn't help but feel she was after something. He eyed her as she ate. She picked at the food, obviously not pleased with it.

            "Somethin' wrong, luv?"

            "Err… no, the sea just doesn't agree with me all that well," she stammered.

            Despite her lack of enthusiasm for salted fish and hard tack, she finished everything on her plate. She drank the rum last, hoping it would wash the bad taste from her mouth. Jack seemed impressed as he watched her down the rum. She smiled at him as she put the cup down. He got up, and after some searching procured a bottle of rum from one of the chests that lined the wall.

            "Have some more, if ye like." He set the bottle down in front of her, but not before he took a long pull from it for himself. Jack was going to get the truth out of her, and to do that, he was going to get her drunk.


	6. Pilfering, Pillaging, and Plundering

Author's Note: Thank you for continuing to read and review. I'm trying to update frequently, but with my writer's block and being an engineering student, it's kinda tough. This chapter was tough to write. I'm terrible at dialogue, and in order to replicate Jack I find myself reading Jack's lines aloud to my computer. 

****

            Adriana took a sip from the bottle nearly equal to Jack's. She was curious as to what he was up to. It was a few hours past midday, which Adriana deemed a bit too early to be getting drunk. Didn't he have some captain-ly duties to attend to? 

            "What do you do for fun on this boat?" she asked, taking another sip of rum.

            "Ship," he corrected her. "The proper term for 'er is 'ship.' Mainly we just fritter away our time 'til there's pilfering, pillaging, and plundering to be done."

            "Oh." She passed the bottle across the table to him, and couldn't help but wonder when he was going to 'plunder' her.

            "Where did ye say ye were from, again?"

            "I didn't say," she paused to think. "I'm originally from New York." She desperately hoped that New York wasn't still New Amsterdam.

            "You're an awful long ways from home." Once again, Jack took a huge swallow of rum.

            "I know," Adriana was surprised at the sadness in her voice. She missed the city terribly.

            "How did ye get here?" Jack leaned forward and stared at Adriana intently as she took another sip of rum.

            "By boat," she lied.

            "Ye sailed a boat, all by your onsies, to the _Isle de Muerta_?" Jack stared at her in disbelief.

            "Not there. Just to the Caribbean. And I didn't sail it. Then I got lost and wound up on your island," Adriana put the rum down, and let it slide with the motion of the waves across the table to Jack.

            "Ye got lost?" Jack was getting angry again.

            "Yes," she stared back at Jack. The resentment on his face was unmistakable. "I already told you this. Why are you asking me again?"

            He drained the bottle and set it down with a forceful thud. His black eyes flicked across her face; she was obviously distressed by his interrogation. Was it because she was hiding something, or was she just afraid of what he could do to her, or perhaps a little of both? He licked his lips as his mind wandered, imagining what he could do to her. He couldn't forget the sight he stole of her soft curves.

            "Why are you asking me again?" she repeated her question.

            "Because I don't think you're being entirely truthful with me, missy. And I won't tolerate your deception on my ship," his words were clipped with anger.

            "Then take me back to the island where you found me!" Adriana stood up to punctuate her outburst.

            "Why?" Jack stood up, his fists clenched.

            "Because I just want to go home. I'm sick of your moldy food, I'm sick of your rickety boat, I'm sick of being smelly, and I'm sick of your stupid questions!" She crossed her arms across her chest and glowered at him.

            "My rickety boat!" He shook his fist at her, nearly at a loss for words. Her insult had wounded him deeply. "I'll have ye know the _Pearl_'s the fastest ship in the Caribbean!" 

He simply stood and glared back at her, his fist still shaking. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears; silence had engulfed the whole ship. It seemed that even the crew on deck held their collective breath, waiting to hear who spoke the next word. 

Finally, he spoke, "How do ye expect to get home from the _Isle de Muerta_? Ye said yourself ye were lost."

            "I don't know," she sighed. "There might be some clues there. It's worth a shot."

            "But there might not be any clues there either. And then where would ye be?" He didn't wait for her answer. "How about I just take ye ashore on some populated island, so ye can make arrangements for your return there?"

            Adriana muttered something that Jack was unable to completely decipher, but he distinctly heard "time machine."

            "What did you say?"

            "Nothing," she sulkily sat back down.

            Jack couldn't stand it anymore; he left the cabin to go find some more rum. Jack's boots drummed irritably on the deck of the ship. Damn that woman! She was so infuriating! None of his men spoke to him as he stormed past. No doubt the lot of them knew what was going on; they gossiped as much as women. He prowled around below decks, muttering about Adriana. Obviously, she needed more rum to loosen her lips. After minimal searching, he found some more rum in one of the holds.

            While Jack was off questing for some rum, Adriana stood up and stole a glance out the cabin door to see if he really was gone. As she paced across the room, she wasn't looking forward to his return. Her brilliant plan of gentle persuasion had ceased to exist. She just had to be such a terrible liar, and she just had to lose her temper with him. Why couldn't he have just accepted her half-assed excuse for being in that stupid cave? 

            The doors to the cabin clattered open, and Jack entered with his usual swagger, a bottle of rum in each hand.

            "One for you, one for me. Savvy?" He handed Adriana a bottle, and then seated himself at the head of the table with his feet propped up on the tabletop. He watched her as she uncorked the bottle and sat down. 

            "Shouldn't you be attending to your captain-ly duties?" 

            "Me crew's quite capable of handlin' the _Pearl_ for now. Besides, your company is much more pleasurable." Jack grinned at her, mischief dancing behind his eyes.

            Adriana smiled insincerely in response to Jack's complement. Now he was trying to sweet-talk her. She decided to play along with his game, just to see what his intentions were. "Why don't you tell me a little about yourself, Captain Sparrow? It's been rude of me to do all the talking."

            With that, Jacks eyes lit up. If there was one thing he might have cherished more than his beloved _Black Pearl_, it might have been recounting any one of his numerous adventures. Jack began his tale. It was all about him, naturally, and he was doing something most spectacular. 

            Adriana found herself relaxing. Jack's voice had a wonderful cadence, well suited to storytelling. It was obvious that the story was well-rehearsed and quite exaggerated. As the story progressed, Jack stood up, his bottle of rum still in hand, and began acting out bits of the story. Adriana only giggled at first, but soon was laughing so hard tears squeezed out of the corners of her eyes. Jack took a bow at the conclusion of his story, and Adriana clutched at her stomach.

            "That… di… didn't… really… happen… did it?" Adriana gasped between fits of laughter.

            "Of course it did." Jack looked slightly offended, but his mouth was still curled up in a smirk.

            "But it's so… unbelievable."

            "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, luv, of course it's going to be unbelievable." Jack's eyes glinted mischievously. Perhaps by awing her with his pirate prowess, he could charm the truth out of her. 

            Adriana felt the ship shudder slightly, as if an unseen hand reached down from the sky and pushed the boat faster through the water. Jack looked around, slightly confused due to the amount of rum he had consumed; then poked his head out of the cabin's doors onto the deck. He glanced around, and after determining nothing was significantly amiss, returned his attention to Adriana.

            "Now that you've heard one of my stories, how about ye tell me one of yours?" Jack sat down next to Adriana, and propped his chin up on the heel of his left hand, his tankard of rum still in his right.

            "I'm afraid that your story has made me realize how dull and boring my life really is, and any story I try to tell will be terrible." Adriana was embarrassed; she wasn't expecting Jack to request a story from her. Besides, there weren't any she could tell Jack, without betraying her 21st century origins. What would he do to her if he knew she was a time-traveling freak?

            "Come now, luv, there's got to be something exciting enough to merit a tale." Jack leaned closer to her; she could feel the heat radiating off his body and with each breath a faint whiff of rum floated in her direction.

            "No," she shook her head, avoiding his eyes. "There's nothing worth talking about. Why don't you tell me another one of yours?"

            "It's your turn luv," he watched her as she took a long drink from her bottle of rum. "What about the one where ye wound up on an island full of cursed treasure?"

            "What?" Adriana was confused. "Cursed? Wait just one minute, Captain. You're just trying to get me to tell you once again how I got on that island. I told you already, I don't know!" 

            Jack scrutinized her reaction. He realized he had slipped with the mention of cursed treasure. He had to come up with some way of explaining it without making himself look bad. He didn't like to own up to the fact that that bastard Barbossa had mutinied and left him for dead.

            "Tell me more about this 'cursed' treasure," she leaned forward, clearly interested.

            "If I tell ye, I'll have to kill ye."

            The doors to the cabin burst open, and a flushed Mr. Gibbs entered.

            "Captain, there's a ship comin' up fast on th' starboard side. I think ye better have a look."

            Jack stood and faced Adriana. "You stay right there. Don't move 'til I come back." He no longer seemed the drunken rouge of just minutes ago; he was now a cold, hard, calculating pirate.


	7. The Pristine Charade

Author's Note: I'm sorry for keeping everyone in suspense; I'm a terrible person. I've just been really busy with school, and I get easily distracted. In addition, for the longest time I had no idea how the story was going to get to the end I wanted, but rest assured, my twisted little mind has decided the way I'm going to go about getting to that end. The semester is drawing to a close, so once the summer is here, I should have more time for writing, hopefully. I want to get this story finished, but I have a habit of not finishing anything. Thank you so very much for all the reviews, even though I haven't updated. You've guilt-tripped me into making time to write. And now the long-awaited new chapter!

***

            Jack rushed on deck, a telescope in hand. From the deck, he could only see the top of the other ship's main mast. 

            "Cooper!" He yelled, "What kind o' colors is she flyin'?"

            "Spanish, Cap'n!" The boy yelled down from the crow's nest.

            "Blast!" Jack paced back and forth across the deck, absorbed in thought.

            Adriana took this opportunity to venture out on deck, to see what the commotion was. He didn't really expect her to sit around in that sweltering cabin while all the excitement happened without her, did he? As she made her way across the deck, all eyes watched her every move. Only Jack and Mr. Gibbs were unaware of her presence. 

            "We've got e'ry last yard o' cloth hanging from her masts, Cap'n. And she's still gaining on…"

            "I thought you said this ship was the 'fastest in the Caribbean,'" Adriana interrupted Mr. Gibbs, turning to face Jack. 

            Jack grabbed her roughly by the arm and hissed in her ear. "_The_ _Pearl_ is the fastest ship in the Caribbean. And ye best stay below decks, if ye knows what's good for ye. Prancing around in your skivvies in front of me crew and the crew of that Spanish junk's not a wise idea, Miss. 'O knows 'ow long it's been since they've seen a woman, 'specially one so fine as yourself."

            Despite the heat, Adriana shivered. Jack shoved her into the cabin, and slammed the door behind her. She rubbed her arm where Jack's red fingers still held her. She hardly considered her outfit worthy of being called 'skivvies.' Granted, her breasts were prominently on display, but everything else was well concealed. She went into Jack's cabin and lit up a cigarette. She opened the nearest armoire in search of something the Captain would find more suitable. She pulled out several shirts, in varying degrees of cleanliness and repair. She found a couple of pairs of what she presumed to be pants. It would take some trial and error before she could figure out how to put them on properly. All she needed was some proper footwear. There was no way her hooker boots could pass for pirate boots. She rummaged through a couple of trunks, but only found various scraps of cloth which she thought she could fashion into a pirate bandanna. She threw her cigarette out one of the ship's windows just as Jack came through the door. 

            "Jus' what d'ye think you're doin'?"

            "Uh… I was trying to find some clothes you'd approve of, so that I wouldn't have to sit around in your cabin while everything happens without me."

            "If ye keep this up, you'll be sitting around in the brig while everything happens without ye." Jack slammed down the lid of the trunk Adriana had been pilfering. 

            "Do you have any boots that might fit me?"

            "What's wrong with the ones you're wearin'?" Jack gave her a quizzical look.

            "They're not pirate-y enough. Please, I promise I won't get in the way. I don't want to cause any trouble; I'm just so bored in here alone." Adriana tried looking cute and pathetic, to appeal to the sensitive side she hoped Jack had.

            Jack frowned, and then dragged another trunk out, and opened its lid. He pulled out a pair of boots and grunted, "Hope they fit." 

            Adriana watched Jack walk out of the cabin without saying another word. He was mad at her, again. She shrugged and sat down on the bed to change into her new pirate regalia. After some debate, she decided to leave the corset on, since when she bent over in her new pirate shirt, the whole world could see down her chest. Her new pants were a bit tight in the hips, but nothing she couldn't bear. She kept her socks on, since the boots Jack gave her looked questionable. As a finishing touch, she wrapped her hair up in a bandanna and plunked a fancy feathered hat on her head. She appraised her new form in the small mirror that hung on one wall. She made quite a stunning pirate. She grinned, and mused that all she needed was a gold tooth to complete the charade.

            Adriana sauntered out on deck with her new-found confidence. Captain Jack wouldn't have an excuse to toss her below for not being fully clothed. Her emergence from below decks didn't draw half as many stares as it had minutes earlier. She tread across the deck to where Jack was examining the distant ship with his spyglass. 

            "So?" she solicited a response from Jack, either about her new pirate garb or the ship on the horizon.

            "She's Spanish." Jack lowered the spyglass and turned to face Adriana. His eyes drifted over and appraised her pristine pirate attire. The corner of his mouth cocked a smile. "You're too clean t' make a believable pirate."

            "And you're too filthy to be anything but." She smirked. "Tell me more about this ship."

            "She's Spanish, and from the looks o' things she's funded by Don Rodrigo Hernandez."

            "Care to explain further?"

            "Some years ago, his father, Don Julio Hernandez was killed when the ship he was traveling on was sacked by pirates. Don Rodrigo has reason to believe tha' yours truly was involved in the sacking and killing. Therefore, 'e has used 'is substantial inheritance to fund an assemblage whose sole intent is the capture and execution of Captain Jack Sparrow. Savvy?"

            "I see."

            "No, ye don't see. His coward of a father shot himself rather than face the 'umiliation of being captured and ransomed by pirates. Now, 'is ne'er-do-well son has taken it upon himself to avenge the death of 'is father. Thinks it's the 'noble' thing to do. So now 'e's poured a bunch o' gold into this new ship that 'e thinks can catch _The Pearl_. 'e may have a slight edge, since _The __Pearl__'s_ not been careened in weeks, but we'll lose 'im by nightfall for sure." Jack sighed and took his position at the helm.

            The chase continued all afternoon. The Spanish ship slowly crept up on _The Pearl,_ but no significant gains were made. Jack strut around deck, barking orders and making minor adjustments in _The __Pearl__'s _course.Adriana got bored, and went below to study more of Jack's maps. Based on her observations, she placed _The Pearl_ on a path towards two islands. Jack was probably going to cut between the islands, double-back, and lose the Spaniard in the darkness. Darkness, now, was _The Black __Pearl__'s _greatest advantage.

            The sun was sinking behind the outlines of the two islands, which were little more than rocky outcrops, when Adriana materialized on deck again. She wanted to see how accurate her prediction of Jack Sparrow really was. They would reach the narrow strait just as the sun's last rays arched over the horizon. By the time the Spaniard reached the islands, _The Pearl _would have faded into the inky darkness.

            Adriana screamed and nearly jumped out of her skin as a cannon blast rang out from the Spanish ship.

            "Fools, we're not within range," Gibbs muttered as he took a drink from his flask.

            "It's an ambush." Jack stated as calm as could be, his eyes tracing the glowing flare that the other ship had shot straight into the air.

            Adriana turned, eyes wide in horror, searching for this ambush Jack predicted. Backlit by the flames of the setting sun, a new ship came into view.

            "Bloody Norrington," Jack hissed as he came up behind Adriana. "Get below."


	8. A Fight to the Bloody Death

**Author's Note:** I know I've said this before, and I'll probably say it again, but I am so sorry for taking so long to update. I had this chapter nearly finished, and then my computer got very sick and I lost everything on my hard drive. It's been in and out of the shop for the past couple of weeks. It's better now, and I can't make anymore excuses for not finishing this. I owe a great deal to Bernard Cornwell's _Sharpe's Trafalgar_ for all of its descriptions of naval warfare. If you've not read any of his books, I strongly recommend them. Lots of battles, historical details, and some sexy, sexy men (mmm… Sharpe). But I digress, back to the story.

**Disclaimer:** Anything you recognize is not mine, and belongs to whomever it came from, like those geniuses at Disney. Savvy?

Muttering about mutiny and betrayal, Jack grabbed Adriana by the arm and dragged her below as _The Pearl_ continued to race towards the new ship. Every second brought _The Pearl_ and all aboard closer to the enemy's cannons. Adriana was brusquely deposited in the Captain's Quarters. The doors were slammed shut behind her as another gun fired from the hostile ship. She heard the splash of the thirty-two pound ball hit the water just feet shy of _The Pearl's_ bowsprit. _The Pearl_ crashed through the spray, and Jack gave the order to take in sail and weigh anchor. He had to turn his ship to avoid being raked, and to attempt to blast the living daylights out of Commodore Norrington. Men swarmed all over _The Pearl's_ rigging, and more flooded the lower decks to man the cannons.

Adriana swayed on her feet as she heard the ship creaking. Never given the chance to acquire her sea-legs, the abrupt change of direction caused her to collapse against the wall. She stayed there as _The Pearl_ fired all her starboard guns, one after the other, in response to the Commodore's challenge. The explosions were much louder than Adriana could have imagined. Just a few more rounds, she thought, and her ears would bleed. She could only imagine the noise a deck or two down, where the guns were actually being fired. _The Dauntless_ fired a full broadside at _The Pearl_. From the sound of it, Adriana presumed they had at least twice as many guns as _The Pearl. _She figured she was done for.

Jack stood fearless on the deck as Norrington fired his first full broadside. The speeding balls splashed into water all around his ship. They whipped through the rigging, and one snatched little Cooper from his perch in a bloody mist. A scant few hit _The Pearl_ proper, but they sent slivers flying through the air in search of eyes to blind. Jack was thankful that he wasn't any closer to Norrington and his _Dauntless._ He had enough fire power to blast _The Pearl_ to bits in a matter of minutes. The distance between the ships, Jack reckoned, was near a quarter of a mile, give or take a few hundred yards. However, the distance was just as prohibitive for him as it was for Norrington. With his few guns, he didn't have much of a chance of crippling his foe. He cursed himself for being so foolish. A ship as lightly armed as that Spaniard wouldn't come after a ship with a reputation like that of _The Pearl_ alone. He should have known some heavily-armed behemoth would be lurking in wait. Jack Sparrow was much cleverer than this!

"Fire!" He bellowed.

Adriana heard the other ship fire, and then a heartbeat later, she heard the cannon balls whistling through the air. There were splashes, crashes, and a high-pitched scream came up from below. She shuddered. She was trapped, and she was going to die a horrible death. She heard Jack's voice confidently order his crew to fire. The guns below her fired, not synchronized as before, but in a more haphazard fashion. Seconds later, _The Dauntless_ began her broadside again, just as organized as the first, and more lead rained down upon _The Pearl._

Jack admired the discipline of Norrington's crew. "A right-proper killing machine," he muttered. He raised him voice and ordered, "Fire at will!"

A thought came into Adriana's head, half hopeful, and half despairing. She might survive the cannon fire, but when _The Pearl_ was crippled, this Norrington fellow would come aboard and kill her for being a pirate. She had to get out of her ridiculous pirate getup. She crawled along the floor, doubting her legs would support her. She reached Jack's cabin as another broadside walloped _The Pearl_. She was certain she had seen what could have been a dress at the bottom of one of the trunks she had rummaged through earlier; the events of today seemed decades away now. She threw back the lid of the nearest trunk, and began digging. She tore his room apart, only pausing to flinch when she heard a cannon ball shatter the ship near her or she heard a man's pitiful screams.

Jack paced the deck, weighing his options. He could stay here, and let his ship and crew be slowly blown apart. He could try to sail off; _The Pearl _could probably outrun _The Dauntless_, but with the damage she'd already sustained he stood no chance of outrunning the other ship. His mind went back to the fight to the bloody death; he'd die nobly, with his ship. Then Adriana drifted into his thoughts. _She'd die too_, a little voice whispered. He cursed himself for letting her get at him this way; she'd turned his guts to jelly. He sighed. There was no way he could let her die like that, smashed into bloody pieces or drowned, her corpse devoured by sharks. There was one more option, which he dreaded to think of, surrender.

With every passing minute Adriana became more panicked. She couldn't search the chests fast enough. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears, a reminder of her mortality. Each falling cannonball was like a grain of sand dropping from the hourglass of her life. She didn't know if this shot, or the next, would be her last. Finally, her fingers clawed at something silk. She pulled it out, and shook it to ease some of the wrinkles. If she hadn't been so terrified, she would have thought the dress gorgeous. It was a rich grey silk gown, with a low, square neckline, which, along with the cuffs, was trimmed in a delicate lace. A wave of relief briefly swept over her, receding with the next broadside from _The Dauntless._ She tore off her pirate clothes, and slid into the dress. After a bit of coercion, she was able to get the dress secured. It was tight, but that was the style.

By now, the sun was completely gone from the horizon, and twilight was fast approaching night. Jack stopped pacing, and gave the order for a white flag to be raised. It was now or never. If he didn't surrender while there was light enough to see his white flag, then the battle would last all night. He'd soon enough run out of powder and shot, and then _The Pearl_ would be a sitting duck. He'd already lost five men, and another dozen wouldn't survive the night. _The Pearl _was riddled with holes, but thankfully none were near the waterline. She'd lost a mast. Escape was out of the question. They were all dead men anyways; maybe this was the only way Adriana could live. He heard his order to cease fire echo along the lower decks, and he escaped to his cabin before the questions started.

His cabin looked like a bomb went off. His clothes, blankets, spare sails, and false colors were everywhere. His mood darkened as he scanned the room. Adriana stood in one corner, her legs firmly planted in an attempt to look defiant, but her face told a different story. She was clearly terrified. He took out his tinder box and lit a lantern, illuminating the dark room. He glanced at Adriana again, to remind himself that this sacrifice was worth it. She was just as striking as he remembered. She was also wearing a dress the color of a black pearl, which threw Jack slightly. He scowled as he grabbed his jacket from the hook behind the door.

"Ye best tidy up, company's comin'," he growled as he left the room.


	9. A Friendly Li'l Visit

**Author's Note:** I deserve all the finger wagging you can manage, and more. Thank you for remembering this story exists and for taking the time to review it.

Commodore Norrington put down his spyglass and cracked a triumphant smile, which he hurriedly attempted to hide. He still had a smug and pompous air about him when he ordered his crew to make ready the barge. He had seen Jack Sparrow replace his Jolly Roger with a white flag; he knew the man never had much stomach for a fair fight. His first lieutenant gave the order for the gunners to cease firing. He, Commodore James Norrington, had finally outwitted, outfought, and outmaneuvered the infamous Jack Sparrow. Surely, he would be rewarded by the clerks in London with a better posting, or maybe, dare he hope, an Admiralty. As his crewmen made ready the shore-boat, he kept a wary eye on _The Black Pearl_; he didn't want Sparrow to slip through his fingers one more time.

Adriana stood in her corner and watched Jack leave, pondering his cryptic message. She had noticed that both ships had ceased firing, but she wasn't entirely sure of the reason. Totally unfamiliar with 18th century naval battles, she didn't know if they stopped at nightfall only to continue again when there was light enough to see by. But Jack's parting remark didn't make any sense, if they had paused because of darkness. In addition, couldn't one of the combatants slink away under cover of darkness? She sat on the bed and frowned. Maybe she should tidy up a bit. She was a terrible cabin-guest for trashing his room like this and stealing his clothes. Could he have been short with her because he was angry about the pirate costume and now the dress? She stood up and sighed; she needed a cigarette. She lit one up, and then began a half-assed effort to pick up her mess.

Jack paused before leaving his cabin and stepping out on to the main deck. The crew would be mutinous. He had just signed every one of their death warrants, and they knew it. It would be worse for the Royal Navy deserters among his crew. They would be whipped before they were hung. He had gotten himself into a royal mess, and had no idea how to get out of it. All he could do was feign confidence and act as if he had a cunning plan for escape. Captain Jack Sparrow _always_ gets out of trouble; why should this time be any different? But first, he needed a bit of rum. He took a big drink from one of the bottles still on the table from his earlier interrogation session. That hadn't gone as well as he had wished. He shrugged it off; she was still a lovely little thing. Taking another swig, he mused that he was quite fortunate to have found her. Once all this 'surrender' nonsense is over with… His mood darkened again. He had to surrender to that bloody nincompoop Norrington. He drained the last dregs from the bottle and tossed it aside. There was no point in avoiding it any longer; it was time to face his men.

The whole crew was gathered on the main deck waiting for Jack's arrival. Still armed, they grumbled amongst themselves. A pirate never surrenders; he kills or is killed. Surrender was for gentlemen who didn't want to risk bloodying their silk shirts. They would have fought to the death, because none of them had any desire to dance the hangman's jig. Brave men, such as themselves, shouldn't hang to amuse the public of Port Royal. They had fought many years for Jack, and they couldn't help but think bitterly about the way he sought to repay their service.

Jack opened the double doors wide, making his entrance with a mischievous grin. "'ello gents."

He strode along the front rank of the crew, taking in their glum faces and hostile stances. They gripped cutlasses and boarding pikes so tightly their knuckles were white in the flickering lantern light. He flashed his golden grin again, in an attempt to reassure his crew.

"Commodore Norrington is going to be paying us a friendly li'l visit." Jack heard his crew spit and groan when he spoke Norrington's name. "Then, we're going to return the favor and pay Norrington a friendly li'l visit. And then, gents, we're going to sneak away, 'cause we can't stand too much of Norrington's company. He's a bit of a buffoon, ain't 'e boys?"

The crew cheered Jack's last remark.

"Now put your weapons away boys, we don't want Norrington getting all 'ot and bothered."

Norrington's boat was making slow progress across the black waters that separated him from his prize. He ordered his men to row faster. God, did he hate night actions. He still felt sick to the stomach when he thought about the incident some years ago at _Isla de Muerta._ That incident reminded him that he was young, inexperienced, and had much to learn about military strategy. Why, in these past few years, he's become immeasurably wiser and cleverer. He's advanced so much that he outfoxed that rouge, Jack Sparrow, who he's been hunting for years. Sparrow's always been a step ahead, Norrington won't deny it, but somehow this time was different. Sparrow slipped up, and now Norrington caught him. He was almost giddy at the thought. The crash of waves against _The Black Pearl's_ hull was much closer now. Norrington drifted back from his thoughts to reality. Sparrow wasn't captured yet, and he had to be prepared for any sort of obstacle the pirate may have waiting for him. Much to Norrington's surprise, a ladder hung against the hull for him when his boat finally reached _The Pearl's_ side. Drawing his sword, he was the first one up the ladder. His grand arrival on the deck was much less graceful than he had imagined it. The sword in his right hand made everything awkward, and heaving himself over the railing was damn near impossible without stabbing himself or anyone around with the narrow blade.

"Welcome aboard, Commodore." Jack bowed and tipped his hat in mocking reverence to the man who stood on _The Pearl's _deck smoothing the gold braid on his uniform.

"Your sword," Norrington's mouth was drawn in a tight line as he held out his hand to receive Jack's sword, which signified his surrender.

"Cuttin' right to the chase, Commodore? No pleasantries for your good friend Jack? No 'nice to see ye,' or 'Jolly good fight?'" Jack ignored Norrington's request; his sword remained in its scabbard.

"Your sword, Sparrow," Norrington said it with a little more forcibly.

"It's _Captain_ Sparrow. You're on me ship. Lovely ship, ain't she? She's a bit worse for wear…" Jack stopped mid sentence.

"You will hand over your sword immediately, _Captain_ Sparrow," Norrington spat the words at Jack as if they were poisonous, "Or your sword will be taken from you by force." He gestured at the boarding party of red-coated Marines that stood behind him.

With the look of a puppy that's just been kicked, Jack handed his sword to Commodore Norrington. Norrington, however, did not hand the sword back to Jack, as was the custom.

"Clap him in irons." Norrington gave the order as two Marines materialized with manacles from his right and left. Jack was quickly shackled hand and foot; Norrington wasn't taking any chances.

Adriana had heard the arrival of Norrington, and to better observe the proceedings, she cracked the cabin door open. She sat on the floor in the puddle of her skirt and watched what was happening on deck. Eager to know her fate and the fate of everyone on board, she strained to witness everything that went on. She gasped as Jack was chained up. Her heart started to beat faster and her breathing became shallower as panic swept over her.

Norrington ordered the marines to round up the crew of _The Black Pearl_. Some of them were ushered below decks to be locked up in the ship's own brig, and the rest were to be transported to _The Dauntless_ and imprisoned there.

In all the chaos that followed Norrington's orders, Adriana remained where she was, watching the events unfold. A redcoat, in passing, saw the door slightly ajar. He did not come directly at the door to investigate, he rather went around from the side, and therefore he caught Adriana unaware and unprepared for his entrance. He pulled the doors open, and pointed his musket at the potential ambush. All the blood drained from Adriana's face as she screamed and threw herself at his feet. She shook violently, so terrified and certain of her impending death that she sobbed and gasped for air. So shocked by the sudden appearance of this sobbing, disheveled woman, the Marine lowered his weapon, and tried to step back, away from her grip around his ankles. He succeeded in flailing his arms which attracted the attention of Lieutenant Gillette. Gillette noticed Adriana clinging to the sergeant's legs and immediately brought it to the attention of Commodore Norrington.

"Sir, you better see this."


	10. Bloody Lies

**Author's Note: **Wow, it's been nearly a year since I updated, and I apologize. I shouldn't make excuses; I should finish what I've started. After receiving some reviews, I poked around my computer and found that I had written, and abandoned, half of this chapter. The very least I could do was finish it. I may have lost my touch; I've written only lab reports in the past few months. I should finish the whole story, while I'm at it. Please, enjoy, or not, this very tardy update.

**Disclaimer:** _POTC_ is not mine, nor are any of the characters. Nor profit, insult, or copyright infringement is intended by me, the author of this lowly fanfic.

Gillette and Norrington crossed the deck to where the befuddled marine stood watching Adriana snivel all over his boots. At the Commodore's prompting, Gillette lifted Adriana to her knees. She sat there with tears and snot running down her face, staring at this confection of a man standing where the marine had been seconds earlier. She dragged the back of her hand across her face as he addressed her.

"Why were you hiding in that cabin, pirate? Were you intending to ambush us as your vile companions were brought to justice?"

"I'm not a pirate," she sniffed, trying to compose herself. She hated when her emotions got out of control.

"Ha!" The scorn in Norrington's voice was unmistakable. "You expect me to believe that you are not a pirate, even though you've been found on an infamous pirate ship full of pirates? What type of fool do you take me for, child?"

"I'm not a pirate. I was," Adriana struggled for the right word to convince him of her innocence, "kidnapped." She breathed a shaky sigh and wiped her eyes.

"Kidnapped?" Norrington eyed her suspiciously.

"Yes, it was terrible." She sniffed again. "I was tied up and brought aboard. They put me in a prison cell, and then I was locked in the Captain's cabin."

Norrington didn't say anything; he just pondered her words. If she was telling the truth, he'd have another crime to find Sparrow guilty of. However, Sparrow's list of offenses was already long enough to have him hanged a couple dozen times. What did one more charge matter? Even if her tale was false, Norrington didn't have the stomach to hang a woman. All he could do was hope that her story was true, and that his weakness wouldn't come around to stab him in the back.

"Lieutenant, see that the young lady gets properly situated in a cabin aboard _The Dauntless_ for our trip back to Port Royal."

Jack had watched Norrington cross the deck to his cabin, and had strained to make sense of what little of the conversation he could make out over the noise the pirates and marines were creating. He stood on tiptoe and craned his neck to see over the bodies assembled on deck. A particularly large marine obscured Jack's view, and forced Jack to tiptoe to the left. Adriana shot him a very guilty look as she was helped to her feet by Lieutenant Gillette. He narrowed his eyes and glowered at her. The lying, sneaking wench! She had to have told Norrington some cock and bull story about kidnapping, and neglected that he had found her trespassing and thieving! Before Jack's anger could stew any further, he was ushered across a gangplank to the _Dauntless_. He cast one last loving glance at the tattered _Pearl_ before going below to the brig for the voyage back to Port Royal.

Adriana saw Jack's look of hatred and disgust; she inhaled another shaky breath and wiped her nose. Lieutenant Gillette held out his arm and escorted her to the _Dauntless_. As she crossed between the boats, she glimpsed violently churning water tinged with the blood of those who had died. Had there been more light, she did not doubt that it would have been red. She shuddered as the thought darted through her mind. This senseless bloodbath had ended, only to shed more blood. Captain Sparrow and his surviving men would hang. Gillette cleared his throat.

"This is to be your cabin for the voyage back to Port Royal. I expect we'll arrive by midmorning. One of the cabin boys will bring you something to eat tonight, and hope you'll join us for breakfast at dawn."

"Thank you, sir." Adriana shut the door. She wasn't sure if it was the most polite thing to have done, but she didn't want to answer any more questions.

She looked around the cabin. It was lit by a single lamp, but moonlight and reflected torch light from the deck above penetrated the cabin through a single window. She crossed the room in three steps, and opened the window. She was at the stern of the ship and twenty or so feet above the water. She couldn't stay here. She shut her eyes. Who was she kidding? Even if she survived the jump and the sharks that were undoubtedly attracted to all the blood in that water, there was no way for her to get back to that cave. She was stuck here at the mercy of all those powdered and perfumed men. She threw herself on the bed and started crying again. How much more wrong could things go for her?

There was a knock at the door. She wiped her face on the blanket and opened it. A frightened boy, who looked no more than ten, stood there with a tray shaking in his tiny hands.

"Lieutenant Gillette sent me to bring you this." He raised the tray slightly.

"Thank you." She forced a smile, which she was sure looked more like a leer to the poor boy. She tried being friendly. "My name's Adriana. What's your name?"

"P-Peter, miss." He looked a little less nervous. "You're not a pirate, are you?"

She couldn't help but chuckle. "No," she smiled. "I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Oh." Peter looked remarkably relieved. "I better get back…"

"Thank you." She took the tray from him, and he ran down the corridor.

She set the tray on the bed and sat next to it. She wasn't very hungry, but she was thirsty. There was some cold tea, which she drank. She soaked some biscuit looking thing in the tea, and forced it down. She moved the tray to the chest with the lamp, lay down on the bed, and gazed at the night sky through the open window. She could smell the lingering powder smoke, the man who slept in this cabin, the sea, leather, and the sharp, primitive, and slightly metallic scent of blood. If she listened hard enough, she could make out the screams of the men several decks below her, as they died and suffered from this evening battle. She drifted somewhere between consciousness and dreams, but did not sleep until the screams ended a few hours before dawn.


	11. Coffee and no Cigarettes

**Author's Note:** I had no idea people still read this. My sincerest apologies for not updating, college is way more time consuming than they lead you to believe. Anyways, this is set after the first movie. I began it before the sequels, and so in my story, the sequels haven't happened. Sorry for any inconsistencies. I hope they don't bother you as much as they bother me. 

**Disclaimer:** _Pirates of the Caribbean_ and everything associated with it is not mine, I believe it belongs to those nice folks at Disney. That said, please don't sue me.

* * *

The cool, grey light of dawn was filtering through the porthole when Adriana awoke. She had slept a brief and dreamless sleep, and was thankful for that. She feared bloody nightmares from yesterday's battle. She yawned and stretched before climbing out of her bunk. She glanced around the room in search of a mirror, and finding none, she set about trying to fix her hair in the wavy reflections the porthole offered her. Lacking a proper brush, she tugged at it with her fingers and hastily pulled it back from her face. Her dress was wrinkled, and she unsuccessfully tried to smooth them out with her hands. She also readjusted her breasts, which had tried to escape in the night. With an exasperated sigh she sat back down on the bed, her head in her hands.

Just as the first rays of sunlight snuck across the floorboards, Adriana heard a timid knock at the door. The tiny mouse-boy, Peter, was at the door.

'The Commodore didn't want me to wake you, but I 'eard you movin' about, and fought you might want yer breakfast, he spoke barely louder than a whisper.

'Thank you, Peter. How long until we're in Port Royal?'

'You're welcome, Miss. If the wind keeps up, the Captain says we should be there by lunch.'

'Thank you,' she said as she shut the door.

Adriana inspected her breakfast. There was some more of that biscuit-type thing she had for dinner, some sorry looking gruel, and what appeared to be coffee. She took a closer look, and sniffed it. Definitely coffee. She was thrilled. She choked down the biscuit and most of the gruel, because her stomach was grumbling at her about last night's dinner. She saved the coffee for last, and savored its warmth and familiarity. Granted, it wasn't the best coffee she'd ever had, but it was coffee. Sadly, the coffee reminded her just how much she wanted a cigarette.

After finishing her coffee, she gathered both the tray from last night and this morning, and decided to find the kitchen and return them. She hoped to encounter a smoker on the way, and bum a cigarette or a drag or two off him. As she stepped on deck, the dazzling sunlight blinded her.

A cool voice greeted her at once, 'Good morning, Miss. I trust that you slept well. May I speak with you?'

Raising a hand to shield her eyes, Adriana looked around for the owner of said voice. 'Uh…. Sure,' she stammered as she laid eyes on that fop, Norrington.

'Good. Peter, will you take those dishes off Miss Adriana's hands? If you'll follow me.'

Adriana followed him back below decks, into a meeting room of sorts. There were maps and charts scattered all over the long table that dominated the room.

'Have a seat, Miss.'

'Thanks,' she mumbled. She wondered what was next. She knew it was going to be another interrogation, but what was he planning on asking her? How many more lies would she have to tell?

'I believe that in the urgency of last night's circumstances, we were never properly introduced. Let me begin, I am Commodore James Norrington. And you are?'

'Adriana Meyer.' No lie there.

'And where are you from, Miss Meyer?'

'New York.'

'And how did you get on that pirate ship?'

She sighed. 'I was kidnapped.'

'From where?' Norrington's patience seemed to be wearing a little thin.

'The pirates picked me up from an island. I'm not entirely certain how I got there, or who brought me there. I remember bits and pieces, but none of it makes sense.' She was being as truthful as possible.

'They picked you up from _Isle de Muerta_?'

'Is that what it's called?'

'Yes, so some other pirates somehow kidnapped you and left you on this island? Then Sparrow comes along and kidnaps you again? It's lucky I came along then, rescuing you from this double kidnapping.' Norrington seemed a bit skeptical, yet a hint of pride accompanied his final remark.

'Yes sir. It is quite fortunate you came around when you did. I remember our ship floundering in rough seas, and then I hit my head on something. I woke to a bunch of gruff voices, and quickly passed out again. The next time I woke I was on that awful island, and before I knew it, I was being whisked off by those dreadful pirates.' Adriana chewed her lip.

'Very well, Miss Meyer. We should be arriving in Port Royal in time for tea. I'll make arrangements for your accommodations upon our arrival. Now, if you'll excuse me.'

'Yes sir, thank you.'

Adriana returned to her dismal little cabin. She could hear the injured men below whimpering, and the healthy men above laughing. What sort of viper's nest was she about to step into? Every gust of wind took her farther and farther from her only chance of ever returning home again. She gazed out the lone porthole, hoping to see that cursed island again, knowing it wasn't there.


End file.
